Dragon Age: Queen Anora
by Alexander Wilks
Summary: This is a story told after the events of Dragon Age: Origins. Anora has become Queen and is attempting to rebuild the kingdom after the Blight. Please read and review
1. Chapter 1

**Anora**

The Queen wept quietly in her bedroom. The last few days had been a whirlwind. After the final battle, in which the Hero of Ferelden had defeated the Archdaemon and ended the Blight before it had really begun, Anora had been crowned Queen. Her whole life had been turned upside down and she was completely lost in the world of duty and power into which she had thrust herself. She thought she might be able to cope more easily if her father had still been alive but he had been killed by the person who had put her on the throne. When she thought of Aedan Cousland, the Grey Warden and Hero of Ferelden, her emotions pulled her in a thousand directions at once.

Her first impressions of the Warden were simple. She was impressed. He was handsome and even though he was a Grey Warden he was also a nobleman. In a different life she would have been happy to take him as a husband unlike that idiot fellow Grey Warden to whom Cousland had tried to put on the throne with her. However, it was quickly apparent that the Hero of Ferelden only had eyes for the apostate mage who was with him. If Anora was honest, she would have happily sided with Arl Eamon in the Landsmeet if she had not been so insulted by the lack of interest that the Warden so clearly displayed in her as a woman.

Now the Warden and his companions had disappeared to the ends of Thedas and she was left to rule Ferelden. The only person Anora was able to turn to was Arl Eamon. The problem was that she couldn't trust the elderly Arl. He was clearly out to become king himself. Anora was astute enough to know that history was written by the winners so her father would forever be thought of as a traitor to the realm and Aedan Cousland would be the hero of the story. The new queen knew that the truth had to be different. Her father would never have betrayed King Cailan at Ostegar. She was left with a lingering, futile anger. Anger at the ordinary people and nobles who treated her father as a hero last week and now cheered the man who killed him. These were the people over whom she now had to rule. No wonder she felt her eyes burn with tears, she thought bitterly.

There was a knock at the door

"Queen Anora, may I enter," a quiet voice said.

"Of course, my dear," Anora replied.

The Queen's new servant entered. She was a young elf from the alienage called Candrani. Anora had had elven servants for as long as she remembered and was happy that this would continue when she was Queen.

"I did not mean to disturb you, Your Majesty, but your guard said you had asked for me."

"I did Candrani. Come sit on my bed next to me," The elf tentatively perched on the edge of the bed next to Anora. "It is very lonely being Queen, my dear. I need someone who I can share things with, someone who I can confide in. I need someone who, when I cry, will not see it as weakness but will attempt to dry the tears."

"My Queen, I do not think..."

"I do not want you to think, my dear, I need you to listen to me and to comfort me. Can you do that?"

"I do not know, my Queen."

"That is OK, I will teach you, you are not my first," Anora lightly placed her hand on her servants cheek and stared into her eyes. "You look like a natural to me."

**Arl Eamon**

The Arl of Redcliffe paced the throne room. The reign of Queen Anora was now three weeks old and it had not started well. He waited for the Queen to take her place and thought about the council that he had assembled to advise the Queen. It left a lot to be desired. In an ideal world, Eamon would have liked Cousland to be on the council. He felt a sense of failure that he could not persuade any of the group that the Hero had put together to help in advising the Queen. He had hoped he could have least persuaded the mage, Wynne, to stay in Denerim but she had been persuaded to go back to the Circle. The council, in reality, was made up of ambitious and duplicitous noblemen who the Arl neither trusted nor respected. No wonder the Queen didn't see these sessions as important, so much so that she did not arrive on time.

Just as the Arl was contemplating sending one of the guards to collect Anora, she arrived in the throne room. She swept into the room looking every inch the Queen of Ferelden, dressed in an elaborate and elegant green dress and wearing her crown. All the nobles bowed there heads in deference to their Queen. As he bowed his head the Arl caught Anora's eyes. They were as fierce as ever as she looked at him, burning with anger. He had tried has best to be a good advisor to Anora but she clearly didn't trust him.

"Come on, let's get this over with," Anora waved her hand dismissively as she sat on her throne. "What have we got today?"

"Your Majesty, may I put in a request?" Arl Evan spoke first.

"Get on with it, Evan," Queen Anora responded impatiently. Eamon know how she felt. When Arl Evan ever spoke at council meetings he wanted something. While other Lords at least made the effort to appear that they had the good of the realm at heart, Emmet Evan had no such pretences.

" Due to the Blight, the Arrowdale has suffered greatly. As you know, Your Majesty, we rely heavily on agriculture for our income. Farmers are struggling as many workers have left for the Free Marches and cannot work the land. Our people are light of coin and need help from the crown to prevent further suffering. Your..."

"That's it!" Eamon had heard enough. He felt the anger rise in his chest and his face reddened. "This is a Queen's council meeting. We are here to advise the Queen on matters of state. You people are pathetic. The Queen may as well empty this hall and invite all the beggars from the slums of Denerim in here."

"How dare you!" Arl Evan responded. He looked shocked and disgusted. Eamon had no sympathy.

Arl Eamon turned to the Queen. "As your loyal advisor, Your Majesty, I advise you to disband the council until we can find more suitable and worthy people to help you rule."

"Fine," Queen Anora smiled enigmatically at Arl Eamon. "Lords go back to your castles. The realm appreciates the time you have given to advise the Queen but that time is now over. Arl Evan, please see the Master of Coin. He will see to your needs. This council meeting is over. Eamon you stay."

The rest of the nobles bowed there heads and left the throne room hurriedly. He was glad to see the back of them.

"Impressive, Eamon," Anora said. "I understand now why the Warden thought to highly of you. I have wanted to do that for a while but I didn't want to upset these idiots. It is not good for a new ruler to make enemies so quickly. Now they will blame you for this."

"Your Majesty, I am here to make sure that the realm recovers from the Blight. The people need a strong and compassionate ruler. We have many challenges to come and I hope we can face those challenges together."

"Arl, I appreciate what you have done today, but don't misunderstand, I respect you but I will never, ever trust you. You may go now."


	2. Chapter 2

**Wynne**

The Circle Tower that could be seen from the camp on the shores of Lake Calenhad was much the same as she had last seen it. The company she kept this time was very much different though. Instead of the eclectic group that the Warden (or should that be the Hero of Ferelden) assembled, she had spent the trip from Denerim in the company of several mages and a smaller number of Templars including, Ser Wayne, the replacement for Ser Greagoir as Knight Commander in the Tower. In the time she had spent in the company of the Warden, Wynne had felt freer than she had done in as long as she could remember. Now, when she set up camp she felt like a prisoner. It upset and angered her that no matter the good that mages could do they were viewed as a threat. This group of mages had fought alongside dwarves, elves and humans to end the blight. Five mages had fallen to the darkspawn, yet that sacrifice meant nothing. All mages were prisoners being punished for the crime of having a talent.

Back in Denerim, even when in the royal palace she had felt like a prisoner. As soon as the Hero left the freedom that she had felt for a short period of time had suddenly dropped away. As she prepared to go to sleep and looked out of her tent at the two Templars guarding the camp she regretted that she had been forced to return to the Circle Tower. She had been forced by the Templars to return to the prison in which she had spent the majority of her life. It was enough to make her weep. Interesting, how it was always the Templars who guarded the camp, Wynne thought bitterly. Of course there were no darkspawn to guard from but you were never safe when mages were around. Mages have to be watched at all times.

Wynne looked back at the Tower for a final time pleased at least that her journey was nearly over. This time something caught her eyes. The Tower was on fire. Smoke billowed out from the third floor of the tower and dissipated into the red sunset sky. Suddenly the quietness of the camp was disturbed in a flurry of activity. Templars barked out orders to their brethren as mages emerged from their tents to see what was happening.

Ser Wayne, bellowed his instructions, "Everyone, stay calm. Myself and two templars will sail across to the tower to find out what is going on. The rest will stay here with the mages. Ser Roden, Ser Talwyn you're with me."

"I am coming too," Wynne said. She was not about to stay here and just wait. The Circle was her prison but that did not mean she could let it burn to the ground. More than that, she did not trust the Templars to handle this by themselves.

Ser Wayne paused for a moment. "Very well, you may come with us. Hopefully you can help stop the mage responsible."

Wynne held her tongue.

Much like the last time Wynne had entered the Circle Tower there was chaos. Two templars ran to meet the mage and her escort.

"What's going on, Ser Talred?" Ser Wayne demanded, authoritatively.

"It's one the Templars, Ser," one of the Templars said. There was an edge of hysteria in his voice. "He's screaming that the Right of Annulment is still in effect. He's set fire to the Tower and barricaded himself in to one of the library rooms on the third floor. Mages have tried to use their magic to put out the fire but have been unable to. We believe a demon is involved."

Wynne stepped forward. "Who is we and where is First Enchanter Irving?"

"I was getting to that as well," the Templar continued, directing his response at Ser Wayne rather than Wynne. "I'm afraid the renegade Templar has murdered the First Enchanter. Ser, the mages are not happy at all. I have sealed them in the basement for their own protection. This needs to be fixed soon or we have problems."

Wynne felt her stomach somersault. The First Enchanter was dead. She struggled to keep her face from betraying the emotion that was tearing her insides apart. She had known the First Enchanter for as long as she could remember and now he was gone. Regardless, the time for mourning was later. First, there was a problem that needed to be fixed. She turned to Knight Commander Wayne.

"We need to kill the demon, Ser. This is the only way that this can be stopped but you have to trust me. This is not a problem that Templars can solve on their own. You need the help of the mages."

Ser Wayne looked at Wynne with his steel grey eyes. Wynne met his gaze with steel of her own. Ser Wayne spoke. "This is a Templar matter. Ser Talred, please escort Wynne inside. Please keep her guarded with the other mages. The Templars will deal with this"

"Don't do this, Ser Wayne," Wynne begged. "The demon is not the only problem you may have here."

"Are you threatening me?" Ser Wayne asked.

"No, I am not threatening you. We are not your enemy here. There is a mad Templar on the loose under the spell of a demon and you are locking away mages like we are responsible..."

"YOU ARE RESPONSIBLE!" Ser Wayne bellowed. "We have almost lost the tower once due to the reckless actions of mages inviting demons from the Fade. It will not happen again. You will do as you are told and join the rest of the mages until we have this situation under control. Ser Talred, I repeat, escort this mage inside and keep her guarded."

"I will go Ser Wayne," Wynne responded quietly. "I hope you never regret where you have decided to stand."


	3. Chapter 3

**Adriana**

"How can you take a Shemlen as a lover? You know what their kind has done to us." Adriana was furious. "You are whoring yourself to _her_. It is bad enough that you have to work for her, now this."

Candrani just sat on her bed trembling with tears streaming down her face. Her sister's meekness just added to Adriana's anger. She wondered again how two twins could grow up so different. They had grown up together as Dalish elves. Both had been entranced with the stories that their Keeper had read to them as children, tales of times when elves had been masters of their own destiny, when they communed with great spirits and commanded great magic.

When they were children and the clan was all they knew, the Keeper had seemed so wise and knowing. As time passed, however, the sisters began to notice the gap between the nomadic life of the clan and the romance and grandeur of the elves in the stories. When adolescence came they had both realised that the Dalish lived in fear. They feared the Shemlen would destroy the last that remained of the old ways. They feared the forest that in the stories had once been an extension of the clan. They feared magic. Adriana remembered an elven boy not much younger than her begin to show signs of talent. One day, when the clan moved camp, he was mysteriously left behind and never mentioned again. Adriana remembered though. The twins learned that the life of a Dalish elf was a life of fear.

Adriana couldn't wait to escape the clan. She had hated it for as long as she was old enough to understand the life that they led. She also hated what it had done to her sister. When they were very young they had been so similar that they had been completely inseparable. But the fear had slowly but surely enveloped Candrani, until the spark that had made her so similar to her sister had all but burned out. One night, while the whole clan had been asleep, Adriana had woke up her sister and they had fled the Dalish life forever to start a new life.

The delight of being finally being free of the Dalish had quickly being shattered when the twins had arrived in the Denerim alienage. They conditions in the alienage had been a shock to both Adriana and Candrani when they had arrived two years ago. They had been welcomed with open arms by the elves of Denerim but they were, if anything, more broken than the Dalish. Within the clan, the elves were ruled by fear but in the alienage the common feeling was one of despair. Candrani had been persuaded by the elders to become a servant in the palace, convinced that her meek nature would serve her well. Adriana had no choice but to stay in the alienage nursing a simmering anger at the way her people were being treated.

Adriana's anger had reached a crescendo during the Archdaemon's attack on Denerim. The whole of the alienage had been cowering in fear while the city had been overrun by darkspawn. Even a Dalish clan had helped to defeat the Blight but the elders of the alienage had hidden in their houses. Even after it was all over Adriana had screamed at the elders to take this opportunity to demand elves be given equal rights in Denerim. They had given a long and meandering explanation of why they need to concentrate on rebuilding the alienage. In truth, this meant they would do precisely nothing to improve their lot in Denerim.

And now this. Candrani had become the plaything of the Shemlen Queen. The symbol of everything that was wrong with this place.

"I'm sorry, sister," Candrani said, her voice trembling. "She is very kind to me."

All of Adriana's anger suddenly dissipated. She sighed softly and sat on the bed beside her sister. "I'm sorry too, Candrani. It's just when I think of what we've been reduced to...it makes me so angry."

Candrani turned and tenderly placed her hands on her sister cheeks. There eyes met and for once, Adriana could see a spark. Through the veil of tears, Candrani's eyes burned with the fire that reflected back like a mirror from her twin. "This is our chance to change things, dear sister," Candrani said. "It may not be noble and it may not be perfect but an elf has the ear of the Queen. This can be the acorn from which all our hopes and dreams can be realised. Elves can take there rightful place in the world again."

**Anora**

Anora was getting frustrated with Arl Eamon. They had argued for hours about how to construct a new council for advising the Crown. In truth, it could not be called an argument as an argument requires two participants. Anora screamed and shouted at the Arl, she had insulted him and threatened him on numerous occasions. Eamon had never raised his voice or lost his temper, he had remained quiet and restrained throughout. It was enough to send Anora insane.

The Queen fidgeted impatiently on her throne. The throne room felt incredibly empty now that the Council effectively consisted of Arl Eamon and no one else. Arl Eamon sat on his own, around a table that had been designed to sit a dozen people. The only other people in the room were the two guards that stood motionless either side of the oak door that faced the throne.

"For the Maker's sake, Eamon," Anora said. "I am the Queen. I decide who is on the council, not you. I've already told you, I don't want sycophantic nobles who are more interested in trying to get a wedding ring on my finger than giving me sage advice."

"You are right, my Queen," Arl Eamon said. Anora had to bite her tongue. If he told her that he agreed with her one more time she was going to scream. Why couldn't he just get a little bit angry? He was so _reasonable_. "I am here merely to advise you. It is up to you to choose the people who make up the council. We just have some more names I would like to put forward for your contemplation."

"I don't want any more names. They're all the same. Arl this and Lord that. If I'm lucky it's Lady this just to break up the monotony of you reading out the names of noblemen I do not know or care to know. I believe you forget, Eamon, I am Loghain's son and I have inherited his contempt of these people you speak of. Nobles are untrustworthy, weak willed and pathetic so why would I fill my council with such people?"

Suddenly, as if by magic, something clicked in Anora's head. How could she have been so stupid? The answer had been staring her in the face the whole time. Laughter rose in her throat slowly. Her lips parted and in a wide grin and the laughter pored out of her. Soon she was almost doubled up on her throne as Eamon looked on, concernedly.

"Are you all right, Your Majesty?" Eamon asked.

"I am, Eamon," Anora said, catching her breath. "What have we been doing for the last few hours?"

"I don't understand, Your Majesty," Eamon said confused.

"Tell me what we've been doing. It's a simple question."

"We've been choosing your council."

"No we haven't. You've been given me names of nobles that could be on my council and I have been saying I do want a council full of noblemen."

"As I say, Your Majesty, I have other names that may be more suitable."

"How many are noblemen?" Anora asked.

"They all are, Your Majesty. But..."

"Exactly, Eamon, exactly. I have you, Eamon, you are a nobleman. I need representatives from the Chantry, the Templars, the Circle. I need to get advice from all corners of Ferelden not just from noblemen."

Eamon looked at Anora directly. As always, the Queen couldn't read his expression. She didn't know if he was going to finally lose his temper with her or just politely explain why this was a terrible idea.

"Your Majesty," he started. "I would be honoured to be on such a council. I know you still do not trust me but if you believe anything I say believe this. This is a wonderful idea. I will make the necessary preparations."


End file.
